


Tracy Freeze is a Big Fat Liar

by ryeloza



Series: So Here's the Thing [1]
Category: Single Parents (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryeloza/pseuds/ryeloza
Summary: Angie reacts to what Tracy tells her at Thanksgiving. Takes place right after the dinner table scene in "Every Thursday Should Be Like This."
Relationships: Will Cooper/Angie D'Amato, Will Cooper/Tracy Freeze
Series: So Here's the Thing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738012
Comments: 22
Kudos: 67





	Tracy Freeze is a Big Fat Liar

_So here's the thing,_ Angie thinks as she ponders the back of Will's head from her place at the kid's table. _Tracy Freeze is a big fat liar._

When you promise not to tell anyone a secret, that means you keep your damn mouth shut and don't tell _anyone_. And that is so _not_ what Tracy did. Tracy opened her big fat mouth and told Angie that secret. Or at the very least she implied it.

And Angie really resents that, because up until that moment, she was doing a stellar job keeping that secret from everyone, including (and this is the most important) herself.

And now it's just out there, rattling around in her brain like the loose change in Graham's piggy bank.

(It sounds taunting, too. Just like that mean kid on the playground, which _pfsh_ , probably was Tracy thirty years ago. _You like Wi-ill. You like Wi-ill._ )

Which, ugh. When did this happen? How did this happen? Why couldn't Tracy just keep her damn mouth shut?

(Like, okay, yeah, maybe a couple of times Angie's had moments where she thought it might be nice to lean over while she and Will were binge-watching a show and make out for awhile, but that's just—you know—being mildly attracted to your friend. She was okay with that.

This—this is a whole new level.

This is…what? Wanting to date Will? _Dear God_.)

"Mom." Graham tugs on her sleeve a little, and Angie shakes herself out of her Will-induced haze. Vaguely, she realizes that Graham must have said her name a few times. "Mom, do I like cranberry sauce? I can't remember."

"Yeah, buddy." Does he? Who knows—she doesn't think they've ever had it on their Thanksgiving table before, but there's a first time for everything, right? She picks up the bowl where it sits between her and Graham's plates and spoons some next to his mashed potatoes.

"It's good," Sophie assures him. "My dad's been real focused on the turkey, but his forte is actually the sides."

Amy shrugs. "It's okay. Not as good as the canned crap."

"I’m concerned about your palate," says Rory. Somehow he's found a spare wine glass that he's filled with apple juice, which makes him look about twenty years more mature than he is as he rolls his eyes and takes a sip.

Hell, he probably is more mature than Angie. All of the kids are. She's an emotionally-stunted thirty-year-old woman who just found out she has a crush on some other woman's boyfriend.

Honestly, Angie really thought she was past this phase of her life. Like aren't grown-up relationships just supposed to be about finding someone worth sleeping with and then possibly lucking out that he turns out to be not so bad to spend actual time with and date? It worked well enough with Owen, and without any of the messy emotions.

It is _not_ supposed to be butterflies in your stomach, feeling floaty when he smiles at you, kind of wanting to both kiss and punch his stupidly cute face when he says something dumb (which is like, all the time). And maybe that's why up until the moment Tracy opened her big mouth, Angie didn't even recognize what was happening.

That entire thought is so cringe-worthy, Angie throws back the rest of her wine glass in one swallow and then immediately regrets it because of course there's no more wine at the kid's table.

Well that won't do.

She stands up, a little more wobbly than she realized ( _when did that happen?_ ), and slowly crosses the five feet between her chair and the other table. Without really thinking, she leans right down between Will and Tracy, reaching for the open bottle of red on the table.

"Sorry. 'Cuse me," she says as she wraps her hand around the neck of the bottle. She can feel Tracy's eyes on her, probably glaring, but that's nothing compared to the electric shock up her arm when Will wraps a steadying hand just above her elbow.

"Careful there, Ang," he says. "You almost just took out my potatoes."

She straightens back up, purposefully not looking at Will or Tracy, and tries not to react when Will gives her arm a little squeeze before letting go.

That's it. She's taking the whole bottle.

She slumps back into her seat and pours herself another large glass, trying her best to refocus on the kids. Unfortunately, the five of them are deep in conversation about some play they're planning to perform after dinner, and they clearly don't want or need her opinion.

So she looks at the back of Will's neck and tries not to think about how it would feel to rest her hand on the nape and how he would turn and smile at her and she'd smile back because she's realized that it's kind of impossible not to smile at Will when he's smiling at her.

She tries not to think about the fact that he's smiling at Tracy right now, reaching out to touch her hand and laugh when she says something funny.

She tries not to think about the fact that seeing that feels like a punch in the gut, and (she's now realizing) that it's felt that way for months.

She sighs quietly, so none of the kids hear her and think she's lamenting having to sit through their play later. Honestly, it's fine, right? Teenagers get over crushes all the time. It'll just be a few weeks—or months—of her looking at Will and feeling this messy, gooey, giggly, painful emotional hell, and then it'll be over. She'll meet someone new, and Will can go back to being Sophie's kind of cute and dorky dad and nothing else.

Tracy knows it. She isn't threatened at all by Angie. Why would she be? Will's not the one imagining holding her hand or kissing her goodnight or lying in bed with her listening to their kids trying to be quiet but actually making a godawful racket because they're kids.

And honestly, maybe that's a good thing, because that might be the single most terrifying thing Angie's ever imagined. The thought of it makes her stomach ache.

"Dad?" Sophie turns before Angie realizes what's happening, tugging on the collar of Will's shirt to get his attention. He turns in his seat so he can face Sophie, leaning his head toward hers when she gestures for him to come closer. She whispers something to him that makes Will smile, just slightly, and for a brief second, he catches Angie's eye.

"Sure, Soph," Will says in response to whatever childhood confidence Sophie's trusting him with. "Whatever you need."

Sophie turns back to the other kids, giving two thumbs up, and they all cheer. From behind Sophie, Will grins and gives Angie his own thumbs up, his eyes staying on her long enough that Angie feels her heart stutter.

 _So here's the thing,_ Angie thinks as Tracy lays a hand on Will's knee and draws his attention back to her. _Fuck Tracy Freeze and her big fat mouth_.

She raises her glass in a silent toast to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> My random head canon that no one needs is that Sophie was asking Will to run the lights for their show, only for Tony to swoop in and once again upstage Will. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! If you have a minute, please leave a comment. :)


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